


Pendulum

by unfathomablestars



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:59:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9892394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfathomablestars/pseuds/unfathomablestars
Summary: Mitch goes missing. Scott's ready to lose it.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm super new to this and kind of nervous?? But anyway hopefully you enjoy! This fic does have a tw for sexual assault but there's nothing explicit. Also it's an AU where they're not famous :)

Mitch wished he'd had the presence of mind twenty minutes ago to call a cab, rather than succumbing to a fit of jealousy and storming out of the club. Usually he was fine seeing Scott hook up with people - really he was -but today had been shitty from start to finish and he was ready to call it a night. So commenced his questionable decision to walk home at 3am on a Sunday morning, and fuck, it was cold. Mitch shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as the wind picked up, peering concernedly up at the sky. The moon was obscured by a bank of thick clouds.

_If it starts raining, I swear to god I'll-_

Mitch froze. A figure had stepped onto the street around 100 metres ahead of him. Mitch couldn't tell where he'd come from, perhaps out of an adjoining alleyway. The flickering street light nearby revealed him to be wearing a jumper with the hood pulled up.

_Okay, relax. Not everyone you bump into at 3am is a psycho murderer. He's probably waiting for a ride._

After a second's more hesitation, Mitch picked up his step again.

_Maybe I should cross the road, just to be safe._

He gave a cursory glance in either direction as he hurried across the Tarmac. No cars. He'd still have to pass the figure though, and Mitch kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he walked, feeling the cool metal of his keys against his fingers. He was around 30 metres away when the figure started walking. Mitch caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. His heart started pounding.

_Fuck ok, he's probably just moving out of the wind. You're fine. It's fine. Keep walking._

But the figure was moving too quickly, too purposefully, for Mitch to believe that. And all of a sudden, they were parallel to each other on opposite sides of the road.

_Shit._

Mitch picked up his pace, trying not to run even though his brain was screaming at him to get the fuck home and lock the doors. A car flashed past, the roar of its engine startling in the silence of the early morning. For a second, Mitch's view of the man was obscured.

And then suddenly all he could hear was footsteps, and the world was spinning as pain bloomed across the back of his head. He felt his knees hit the ground, but for some reason he couldn't get up, and -

_Why can't I see anything?_

Dread rose up in him as he realised what was happening.

_I'm about to pass out. I'm being- fuck._

Mitch opened his mouth to call for help, but no sound was coming out, and then the world fell away and he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg guys you have no idea how much every comment and kudo on the last chapter made my day!! Ilu all xxxxxxxxxx

"Oh hey Scott!" Kirstie's voice chirped over the speaker, betraying nothing of how much she'd drunk the night before.  
  
"Hey Kirstie," Scott said, sinking onto the couch. "How's it going?"

"Good! You know, I actually don't have a hangover at all? Which is so weird because I've never not had a hangover."

"That's weird," Scott agreed. "Look, I just wanted to check if you know where Mitch is? He didn't come back last night."

"Nope, haven't seen him. He probably went home with someone."  
  
Scott exhaled, abandoning the couch in favour of pacing around the living room. He knew Mitch was most likely fine, but something curling in his gut made him uneasy. "Yeah, that's what I thought. But it's 6 o'clock. Mitch never stays this long with a one night stand. And he's not answering his phone, I just -"  
  
Kirstie cut him off. "Woah there, big guy. His phone probably died. Give him a little longer before you start freaking out, okay? He can take care of himself."  
  
"But what if-"  
  
"Nope. None of that. Just turn on the TV and he'll be back before you know it."  
  
Scott scowled, ripping a loose thread from the hem of his jumper. He couldn't stop himself from glancing at the front door, half expecting it to open and Mitch to walk in. Mitch never disappeared like this, and he always replied to Scott's texts, even if he _was_ with some random guy. "Maybe I should call Kevin, he's on the force-"  
  
"Do _not_ call Kevin." Kirstie interrupted. She sounded so logical, so unconcerned, that Scott wanted to shake her.  
  
"He's got a job to do, yeah?" She continued. "Give Mitch until tomorrow, and if he's still not back, _then_ you can call Kevin."  
  
Scott ripped another thread out. "Fine. Thanks Kirstie. Tell Jeremy I say hi."  
  
Scott hung up, tossing his phone onto the couch. He lasted 5 seconds before he was picking his phone back up and calling Kevin's number.  
  
"Hey Scott, what's up?"  
  
"Hey, Kev, look. I know it's meant to be 24 hours before you can officially report someone missing, but I don't know where Mitch is and I was wondering if you could help me."  
  
Kevin paused before replying. "Um, okay. When was the last time you saw him? Wait, let me just get a pen." The sound of rustling papers drifted over the line. "Okay, go."  
  
"I saw him yesterday. Well, this morning technically? We were at Chasers and he left without telling me. But I'm pretty sure I saw him at around 2." Scott resumed his pacing, casting another glance at the front door.  
  
"Have you tried calling him?"  
  
" _No_ Kevin, I haven't," Scott said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've just been sitting here, t-"  
  
"Okay, okay," Kevin said, sounding tired. "Remember, I'm the one trying to help you, yeah?"  
  
Scott exhaled, feeling guilty. Kevin deserved better. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just-"  
  
"-Worried about Mitch, I get it. Look Scott, the fact is that Mitch is probably with a guy. Now, I know you're in love with him and don't want to acknowledge it -"  
  
Scott laughed in spite of himself. "Oh my _God_ Kevin! That's not what this is about. It's about the fact that the last time Mitch had a one night stand, he was done and dusted with the walk of shame by the crack of dawn." After a second, he added, "and I'm not in love with him."  
  
Scott decided to ignore the scoff that followed that statement.  
  
"Whatever you say, buddy," Kevin finally said, somewhat dubiously. "I'll tell you what. If Mitch isn't back by tomorrow we'll make an official report, and I'll go down to Chaser's first thing to check the security tapes. He'll turn up."  
  
"And if he doesn't?"  
  
"He _will_ , Scott." Scott heard yelling in the background, the sound of doors slamming.

"Okay, I've gotta go," Kevin said. "Try not to stress too hard, alright?"  
  
Scott ground his teeth in frustration when the line went dead, resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room.  
  
_And if he doesn't?_  
  
His own words echoed in his head. Unbidden, images of Mitch lying in alleyway somewhere, unconscious or worse, grew in his mind like poisonous flowers. Mitch was so small, he'd be the perfect target for a mugger or... Scott's stomach turned as he considered the other possibilities. And what if he was dead?  
  
_He's not. He's off boning with a hot stranger, probably having the time of his life._  
  
The idea brought him more comfort than it normally would. He just wanted Mitch to be all right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks, twelfth grade is a dickhead xxxx

Scott couldn't slept that night. The uneasy feeling in his stomach just kept growing, to the point where he felt physically uncomfortable. He would try to ignore it, but whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was Mitch. Eventually he gave up, abandoning his bedroom in favour of the living room and its view of the front door. He fiddled with his phone as the hours ticked by, sending Mitch yet another unanswered message.

_Hey, I'm worried about you. Call me?_

4 am came and went with no sign of Mitch. Scott wondered when it would be acceptable to call Kevin again. He was anxious about what they'd find on the security tapes - if Mitch had left the club on his own, what sort of lead would that leave them with?

Suddenly, Scott was filled with energy. It was ridiculous that he was just sitting here, waiting for other people to look for Mitch. He had eyes, didn't he? And he knew Mitch's last location. Without further deliberation Scott rose from the couch, grabbing his phone and keys as he hurried out the door, not bothering to lock it behind him.

 It was cold on the street, and dark.

_Of course Mitch had to go missing in winter_ , Scott thought. Although tempted, he decided against calling a cab - something could have happened to Mitch at any point between his apartment and the club, so walking would be his best bet. He set off at a brisk pace, shivering slightly not at the cold; but at the eerie silence that hung in the air, interrupted only by his own footsteps and the whispers of wind that came and went sporadically.

Scott opened maps on his phone and entered the address of the club, not trusting himself to find it on his own. The faint glow of the screen seemed out of place in the darkness, but comforting all the same. He scowled when he saw that his estimated walking time was 49 minutes.

He’d been going for only ten when Scott realised he had no idea what he was looking for. A body? Did he honestly expect to find Mitch’s body? No. He’d know if Mitch was dead. Hell, Mitch was probably fine right now – it dawned on Scott that he hadn’t even tried calling Austin, or Luke or any of Mitch’s other friends. He could be with any one of them. And so what if he wasn’t picking up his phone? Phones could die or get lost. Scott ran his hand through his hair, unsure. Should he just go home? He knew if anyone could see him now, walking along the street at 4am looking for a friend that had barely been gone a day, they’d think he was mad. Maybe he  _was_ mad. He suddenly understood why people called them _co-dependent._  

Another gust of wind hit him, and Scott slowed his step. He was cold, tired, a little unnerved being on his own so late, and even if something had happened to Mitch, he was unlikely to get any answers like this. With a sigh of frustration, he turned around, wondering what had made him think this would be a good idea.

He trudged back to the apartment, resenting himself and his tendency to get so stuck in his head. He’d left all the lights on, and he winced as he stepped through the door, needing a second to let his eyes adjust to the brightness. Abruptly, Scott felt exhausted. The uneasy feeling was still there, but the rush of fatigue made it easy to ignore. He was asleep almost before he reached the couch.

When Scott woke later in the day, he had four missed calls: none from Mitch, four from Kevin. “ _Shit_!” He exclaimed loudly. It was 12:11. He’d slept for over 7 hours – who knew what he’d missed?

“Mitch?” He called into the air, just to check if he’d come home while Scott was out of it. No response.

With shaky fingers, Scott swiped Kevin’s name and held the phone to his ear.

“Scott! What the heck, man. I’ve been trying to call you.”

Scott’s mouth went dry. “Have you- has he-?”

“No. But when you didn’t come in this morning me and a couple of guys decided to check out the footage anyway. He left Chaser's alone, Scott.”

Scott exhaled shakily. “Okay. Okay, so maybe he’s –“

Kevin interrupted, sounding serious. “There’s more. We had a look around the area after we were done. Justin found something.”

There was a pause. Scott’s heart fluttered. “What was it?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice controlled.

“His keys. We found Mitch’s keys lying on the side of Jersey Road.”

It took Scott a few seconds to process what that meant. For a second, all he could feel was relief. He’d half expected Kevin to confirm his worst fear, tell him that they’d found Mitch’s remains in a dumpster somewhere. But then the implications hit him. Something must have caused Mitch to drop his keys – drop them and leave them, because who didn’t realise when they dropped their keys? They weren’t exactly quiet objects. And Jersey Road was en route to their apartment, meaning that Mitch was likely to have been on his way home, _not_ heading towards a friends. Scott felt a wash of guilt. He’d just given up searching last night, convinced that there was nothing to be done. But if he’d kept going, then maybe he would have found the keys. He could have gotten that evidence to the police earlier, started the search earlier. Who knew what was happening to Mitch right now? If they found him too late…

“Scott? Are you there?”

Scott blinked out of his reverie. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m here.” His voice cracked.

“I’m going to need you to come in and file the report. I would do it, but then I wouldn’t be allowed on the case. Conflict of interest.”

Scott took a deep breath. “Okay. Yeah, of course. I’m on my way.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott finds out some information he'd rather not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys there's been so much scomiche content in the last few weeks, who else is LIVING.
> 
> Also I know i've been a patchy updater, but school holidays are happening so hopefully things will get better ! Thank you everyone who left kind words/kudos, it seriously makes my day ! xx  
> .

Scott strode through the doors of the police station, slowing as he reached the reception. He'd been here a few times, but only ever as a friend of Kevin's, bearing coffee and company when the guys were having a slow day.   
  
He'd definitely never had to report someone missing before.  
  
Suddenly the white-tiled walls seemed claustrophobic, the overheard LEDs clinical, too bright. Scott glanced down at himself, self-conscious of his two day old clothes and untidy scruff. He absently wondered what he smelled like.   
  
The receptionist; a balding, middle aged man, looked up from his computer as Scott drew closer, flashing an easy smile.   
  
"Scott! Haven't seen you in a while. How's it going?"   
  
Scott forced himself to smile back, the movement robotic and insincere. "Not too bad, thanks Kyle. Is Kevin here?"   
  
"Yeah, he's in his office, go on through."  
  
With a word of thanks, Scott stepped through the doorway located opposite the reception desk, into a room that was a mess of cubicles, papers and ringing phones. Scott usually enjoyed coming here, enjoyed getting an inside look at such an exclusive set-up. Sometimes, he'd catch himself staring down the hall that led to the holding cells and interrogation rooms, wondering if anyone was down there, what they'd done. He'd asked Kevin once, who'd laughed and said; "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," which prompted Scott to imagine a series of increasingly unlikely scenarios, involving serial killers and guns and high speed car chases. Now, he looked towards those rooms and felt only a strange combination of nausea and vindication. Whoever had attacked Mitch was going to end up in them, he'd make sure of it. 

Scott waved at the officers that called out to him as he weaved his way between cubicles, heading for the Major’s office - Kevin had gotten the promotion a few months ago, and Scott couldn’t have been more proud, dragging him, Mitch, and a few other mates out for drinks in celebration. That night seemed years ago, like it was a part of someone else’s life. The idea of _having fun_ was suddenly foreign, and Scott couldn’t help but berate himself for taking Mitch for granted, for not making the most of every second. Now, a voice was whispering in the back of his mind that he might never get the chance to see Mitch again. The idea was so incomprehensible, so awful, that a lump formed in his throat. He blinked rapidly to prevent himself from tearing up. Wrong place, wrong time.

Just as he reached the office door, it swung open, revealing a tired looking Kevin. There were bags under his eyes that hadn’t been there when Scott had last seen him two weeks ago, and his uniform looked wrinkled and un-ironed.

“Oh, Scott, you’re here,” Kevin said, sounding abruptly flustered. He hurried to pull the door shut behind him, but before he could do so, Scott caught a glimpse of the whiteboard that dominated the far wall. In the left hand corner, surrounded by images of people Scott had never seen before, was a picture of Mitch.

“What was that?” Scott asked curiously as the door shut in his face.

“Nothing,” Kevin said firmly. “Let’s go talk somewhere else.” He grabbed Scott’s arm in an attempt to steer him towards the seating area near the entrance. Scott, realising Kevin was hiding something, didn’t budge.

“Kevin! That was Mitch. What’s going on?”

Kevin hesitated but released his hold on Scott’s arm. He sighed. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else, okay? This is strictly confidential. And you can’t freak out.”

Scott nodded warily, suddenly afraid. “Okay. My lips are sealed.”

Kevin re-opened his office door, ushering Scott inside before closing it with a soft click. He didn’t say anything as Scott crossed the room, bypassing the cluttered desk and worn furniture to examine the whiteboard.

The picture of Mitch was an old one - his hair still long and falling across his face – but the smile was the same; the one that made Mitch glow, that made Scott wonder how he got so lucky. He ignored the pang in his chest and tore his gaze away, forcing himself to look at the other photos. There were seven of them in total, 2 men and 5 women: all around his age, all petite and pretty. A pair of magnets held up a map of LA adjacent to them, red crosses marking seven different locations.

“What is this?” Scott asked softly. “Who are these people?”

Kevin cleared his throat, his discomfort evident. “Scott, there’s been a series of disappearances over the last few weeks. Mitch is the most recent. We have reason to believe that they’re all connected.

Scott stiffened, not sure how to react to the news. A tiny, petulant part of him resented that Mitch was no longer the number one priority, that the rescue efforts would be spread across seven people. But then he realised that more people involved would equal more evidence, and he felt a little better. A question occurred to him, and it took a few seconds before he could work up the courage to ask it.

“Have any of the others… have you found any of them?”

Kevin shook his head. “Not a trace. But…we’ve found surveillance footage in three of the seven cases that link this man –“ Kevin pointed to an image that Scott hadn’t noticed before “- to the scene of the disappearances. We weren’t sure before now, but he comes up in the Chasers footage as well. We ran him through our facial recognition software and… there was a match.”

“That’s good right?” Scott asked, confused as to why Kevin seemed so reluctant to tell him. “Who is he?”

Kevin sighed again. “His name is Stefan Cook. We think it’s a fake name. In any case, he’s been wanted for some time because of his connections to a…” He paused, swallowing nervously, “to a human trafficking ring.”

It took Scott a few seconds to realise what Kevin meant, what the significance was. “Oh my God,” he said weakly, swaying on his feet. “Are you saying-? Is Mitch-? Oh, fuck.” He sank onto the leather couch that was pushed against the wall. Scott was no expert on human trafficking, but he’d seen _Taken,_ he knew what lay in store for Mitch if he wasn’t found soon enough. His vision blurred.

_At least he’s probably still alive,_ his mind whispered to him. The thought gave him an inkling of hope, the ability to look up and meet Kevin’s gaze.

“The good news is that we probably still have some time before Mitch is… sold.” Kevin said, looking as ill as Scott felt. “What usually happens is the victims are held somewhere until the traffickers satisfy their quota. Then they’re moved as one big batch to wherever the buyers are. For now, Mitch is probably still in LA.”

Scott tried to feel comforted by that, but all he could wonder was what would happen if they were too late, it Mitch and the others were shipped off to some foreign country before they could be rescued.

Kevin seemed to read his thoughts and gave a shaky smile. “We’ll find them, Scott. Come on, there’s paperwork you need to fill in.”


End file.
